


That Would Be Enough

by RockPaperbackScissors



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8172926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockPaperbackScissors/pseuds/RockPaperbackScissors
Summary: When the new Shadow Broker visits the Normandy, Samara must confront her old demons all over again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "It's Quiet Uptown" from Hamilton.

It always took a moment to find: the spot of perfect blackness suspended between the stars. But as soon as Samara bent her attention towards it, a familiar tug at her forehead pulled her consciousness out through the window and into meditation. She slipped into the absence of thought that was the closest thing she had to comfort. She was only loosely aware of her body as it sat on the unyielding floor of the observation deck.

Her concentration cracked when the door whooshed open behind her. Shepard could be so intrusive at times.

“Samara?”

The voice was liquid and hesitant, the opposite of Shepard’s.

Samara sighed without turning her head. “Who are you?”

“Liara. I’m a friend of Shepard’s. I’m visiting the Normandy for a few hours.” Samara heard delicate footfalls, and then the rustle of someone crouching beside her. She caught the faint, cool smell of lilac perfume. “I’ve heard of you.”

“And I of you. What do you require?”

“I only wanted to talk.” This child, Liara, seemed to be searching for words.  “What I meant to say is—” she paused —“I heard of what happened to your daughter. And I’m so sorry.”

“There is no call to apologize for events that you had no involvement in.” Samara still didn’t look at her.

“Yes, but I wondered if you might want someone to talk to.”

Samara could imagine what Liara looked like: bright-skinned and big-eyed, a round face not yet free of youth’s softness.  “There is nothing for me to say.”

“But… you are going through the unimaginable,” Liara said falteringly.

“Am I?” For the first time, Samara turned her head to face the other asari, with the same slicing glare that had given pause to soldiers and mercenaries and murderers. But the child beside her did not flinch.  “It seems that _you_ have tried to imagine it.”

The corners of Liara’s mouth crumpled downward, but her eyes didn’t leave Samara’s. “I know how it hurts when a child is turned against a parent,” she said in a whisper that stumbled out from deep within her throat.

Samara’s attention returned to the window. “You alone know your own pain, as I alone know mine. Each burden will only increase as this war goes on.”

The brilliant darkness pressed against her forehead once more. In her peripheral vision she saw Liara rearrange herself into a cross-legged position by her side. _Stubborn girl_ , Samara thought, _she’s almost like_ —

No. No one was like anyone else. When things were lost, life did not supply a neatly wrapped replacement. It only supplied pain. Sometimes, it supplied pity. And someday, perhaps it would supply forgiveness.

That would be enough.


End file.
